


Private Valentine's

by Miistical



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9595346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miistical/pseuds/Miistical
Summary: The first thing Harry noticed when he woke up was the warmth.





	

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke up was the warmth.

The soft duvet he had curled beneath just the night before covered him up to his shoulders. The golden blanket breathed easy in the summer and kept in the heat in the winter, but it was not the bedding that had his body relaxed and pliant. No, it had everything to do with his bedmate.

Harry snuggled into the firm and possessive hold Tom had on him even in sleep, his thinner body fitting perfectly in the contours of Tom's lean physique. The messy haired man breathed in the scent of his fiancé, his nose buried in the the slope of Tom's throat, the musk of firewood and rain clashing in a delicious consequence of his conditioner and aftershave.

After a few moments of just basking in Tom's presence, Harry slowly blinked into full consciousness, only for his bleary eyes to widen in pleasant surprise. Usually Harry would wake to Tom's smoldering eyes, the older of the two having a habit of watching him sleep in the morning, but it was Harry who woke first instead. Green eyes slowly roamed over the sleeping man's face and took in the many details that created the perfect image Tom cultivated everyday. His hair, though mussed from sleep, still kept a small wave, his lips were smoothed from their regular frown, and, Harry noted with heart-swelling interest, that Tom actually looked _sweet_ while asleep. Tom could be kind and romantic, but even Harry had to admit that, out of the many things one could say, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. was not sweet.

The thought caused a tingle to rush through Harry, leaving him light-headed and light-hearted. He gently leaned forward and softly kissed the other man, Tom's lips warming him like no blanket could. The younger man noted the slight curl of Tom's lips and allowed himself a secret smile as he quietly made his way out of their bed and, after taking a moment to stretch awake and pluck his glasses from the nightstand, left the bedroom.

Harry, with only a thin pair of sweatpants to give him modesty, slowly walked down the hallway and into their apartment's main living area. He paused to take in the silence and light beams of light that only came early in the morning before taking off for the kitchen. With a precision that only manifested from years of practice, Harry quickly made himself a cup of tea and then made Tom his signature cup of black coffee.

He breathed in the aroma of the citrus and took a cautious sip as he stood in front of the sliding glass doors that lead out to the balcony. After a beat of thought, Harry slid the doors aside and stepped out to the railing, the air a little biting but the sun took care to get rid of any chill. As a night owl, Harry never really took to mornings and preferred sunsets to any sunrise; but there was just something about the streaks of color that enraptured him.

_'Maybe I could get up earlier if this is what I'd be waking up to,'_  he thought, his eyes glued on the slowly rising sun and the colors it created. As Harry continued to drink his tea and settle in to watch the world wake up, he never noticed his fiancé get progressively closer.

When Tom had woken to an empty bed and the smell of freshly brewed coffee, he knew exactly where Harry was. However, that didn't stop the swift, yet brief, flood of terror that came with not knowing where Harry was. Tom usually woke before his beloved just so that he could have time to make sure Harry was safe in his arms; that was still there with him. Tom was a possessive bastard for sure, but he was also extremely protective and he felt satisfied knowing wherever Harry was, Tom would be able to help him.

Thankfully Tom recovered quickly and lovingly shook his head in fond amusement—of course the first thing Harry does is make tea and coffee. _'I doubt he could even function correctly if he didn't have caffeine in the morning,'_ he thought. Tom chuckled to himself at the image of Harry finding nothing to jump-start him for the day. Though, of course, that's where Tom came in. With a smirk Tom thought of many different ways he could _persuade_ Harry into having enough energy for the day and his mood significantly increased as he walked into the living room.

The brunet followed the fragrance of Harry's tea to the balcony. Tom paused, his hand on the door, and just watched his fiancé for a few seconds. He was wearing a pair of Tom's black pajama pants and the back of his neck still had a smattering of old love bites. Tom's eyes prodded at the areas and decided that he would have to try harder on making them visible - Harry's dark skin made such bites difficult to see but Tom was nothing if not resourceful.

Tearing his gaze away from Harry's neck, Tom's eyes slid up to the bird nest that Harry called hair. A huff of mirth escaped Tom before he could control himself and he saw Harry tense before relaxing and turning to his fiancé. Harry greeted Tom with a breathy, "Good morning."

Tom responded in kind and slowly slunk from his position from the door over to Harry's chair. Gently guiding the slighter man upwards, Harry placed his tea on a small coffee table before getting up and letting Tom take his place. When he settled into the chair, Harry sat back down, his back pressed against Tom's equally unclothed chest as his head rested on Tom's shoulder. The pale man pressed a steadfast kiss on Harry's forehead and murmured, "Ah, yes. Happy Valentine's Day, darling."

Harry, true to character, immediately flushed a light pink. He could not contain the smile that curved his mouth and murmured back, "Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Tom."

The couple returned their attention to the sunrise and spent the next few minutes just enjoying the moment with each other. Ever since their first disastrous Valentine's Day together - Harry completely forgot the day existed and Tom went far too overboard for Harry's humble tastes - they had decided that a day spent by themselves was perfect.

Soon enough Harry started feeling hunger pangs and with great reluctance slid from Tom's lap. The man took a moment to give Tom a quick kiss on the cheek and then ducked back into their apartment. Tom followed Harry with his eyes until he disappeared from view entirely, which then prompted Tom to go after his mischievous lover.

Harry was taking out different pans, making a racket throughout it all. When the green eyed man noticed Tom's bemused expression, he pouted and whined, "What?!"

Tom shrugged and elegantly waved his hand before tucking it beneath his chin. "Oh nothing, just watching a very beautiful man about to make a fool out of himself."

"Hey!" Harry yelled, affronted but not offended. "You always cook in the morning, let me try!"

"Darling," Tom drawled, his smirk only growing, "there's a _reason_ why I'm the one to cook."

Harry, not admitting defeat, scoffed, "Yeah, because you get up before me."

"Because the last time you tried to cook it ended with the fire department."

"That was one time! I've gotten better!"

"Oh, really?" Tom purred, his eyes dark and intense. "Want to prove that?"

Harry turned his head, his pride refusing to quail beneath Tom's voice. "Of course!"

The younger of the two had just effectively signed away his day because in the next moment he was surrounded by Tom. Pan hovering protectively over his chest, Harry was boxed in by Tom's arms, the other man's breath hot puffs on his neck. Swallowing a whimper at the sudden closeness, Harry tensed when Tom muttered into his skin, "So you won't mind if I help?"

Eyes wide and cheeks completely red, Harry shakily replied, "Y-yeah, I don't mind."

Suddenly Tom was ten feet away and by the stove, his arms crossed and his smile shark-like. The heat left with him and Harry couldn't help shivering at the cold. The movement didn't escape Tom and the leer that followed had Harry nearly sprinting to the pantry. For the next few minutes it was just Harry escaping Tom's near palatable hunger that no amount of food could satisfy.

While Tom always loved the chase Harry gave him - it _was_ what drew him to Harry in the first place, after all - after waking up without him, Tom didn't have his usual patience. Sweeping in from where he stood in front of the refrigerator, Tom placed one hand on the counter to Harry's left and turned off the stove with his right. Instantly Harry turned around with a yelp, "Tom! I'm trying to cook!"

Tom just slithered his arms around his fiancé and kissed him soundly on the mouth, stifling any more objections. Leaning in, Tom deepened the kiss and let his tongue swipe against Harry's. Harry broke away with a gasp, his pupils blown wide and chest heaving. In one final burst of stubbornness, though he was already hitching a leg around Tom's hips, said breathlessly, "What - what about breakfast?"

Tom pulled Harry squarely onto his hips and growled, "The food will still be here; ravishing you is far more important."

As Tom strode back to their bedroom, all Harry could think was, _'Best Valentine's Day. Ever.'_


End file.
